


Ex-Liars

by whatdoiwant



Category: Spies Are Forever - Talkfine/Tin Can Brothers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canon LGBTQ Character, Canon LGBTQ Male Character, Canon-Typical Violence, Curt fucks around AND finds out, Drinking, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Kidnapping, LOL - Lots of Lying, Like so much, M/M, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Spies? In front of my salad?, Swearing, do i have a posting schedule? no. never., i'll add more when i think of them, idk if chapters 8-10 count as filler but they seem like it, or when they apply, why are british people obsessed with kidnapping
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:40:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 6,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25973797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatdoiwant/pseuds/whatdoiwant
Summary: Curt didn't think Owen would let him live.But he did.Curt didn't think Owen would still care about him.But he did.Curt didn't think he would love Owen again.But... did he?(edit; so much more than that happens, i didnt know so much would happen, the summarys on each chapter are more acurate for where this is going)
Relationships: Agent Curt Mega & Original Male Character, Barb Lavernor & Agent Curt Mega, Owen Carvour/Agent Curt Mega
Comments: 22
Kudos: 29





	1. The (Living) Room Where It Happened

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Owen knocks out Curt at the end instead of Curt killing Owen. He kidnaps him and reveals his feelings. Curt is not having a good time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welcome to the first chapter! hope you enjoy!

“How does it feel that you’ll never catch up to us?” 

Curt could barely process the situation. Owen was alive, currently, talking to him like nothing happened.  
Except everything happened. Owen was alive the entire time, those entire 4 _dreadful_ years, working against the man he had previously cared about, hell, loved. Everything Owen said rang in Curt’s ears, his head pounding.

“This can’t be happening...” He mumbled. “Oh,” He chuckled. “This is happening, no matter how much you deny.” Curt stumbled back, the lights flickering above him.

He was… hit? His head hurt, bad, and Owen wrapped his arms around him. “It’s okay, I’m here, love…” He whispered. Warm tears fell onto his shirt as his eyes closed.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Warm air. Faint tapping. Distorted voices. Bright lights. Where was he?

Curt tried to reach up to his face to rub his eyes but… Shit. He was tied up. Wait… Distorted voices? There was someone here! Shit, shit, shit! Okay, he had to calm down or the person would notice. Slow, even breaths. Slow…

“I know you’re awake!” The voice called. Godammit. He recognized that voice… Was that Owen’s voice? “Gah!” A phone slammed down. He was on a call! That explained the voices.

“How are you feeling, love?” Owen walked towards him, speaking in such a tone Curt hadn’t heard in so long. He almost responded from instinct, saying the truth before asking his lover the same. EX! Ex-lover! This Owen hated Curt. He had changed. He said so himself, saying the feelings left him the same way Curt left him for dead.

“What do you want, you sick bastard?” “Oh, Curt…” “Don’t! Say what you want and get on with it.” Owen sighed, looking Curt in the eyes. “I just… I want you… You and your love, your precious smile, your-” He reached up to Curt’s face, resting his hand peacefully on his cheek. The touch was so delicate, Curt wanted to melt into it, and he almost did. But he knew better. “- every detail.”

Curt scanned the Brit’s face, looking intently at every inch. “God…” He almost sounded tired, sick of having to live this life of secrets. Owen hoped internally Curt would realize the mistake in his words and- “You’ve become a better liar I see! Changing the gives to make me believe you, eh? It won’t work, old b-” He stopped. He couldn’t.

This was starting to sound like the times Owen pretended to be an enemy for information, revealing himself before any harm could be done. This was starting to sound like… No. This was not a time to think of that day. That horrible day. Curt had to stay confident. Curt had to stay calm. That day was reserved for those late nights, alone in his room, laying in his bed wondering where he went wrong, where- His eyes began to fill with tears, but he quickly blinked them away before his kidnapper could notice.

“Curt?” Shit. How could Curt forget? His “kidnapper” was his lo- _ex_ -lover! The man who knew Curt better than anyone else. The man who could tell when something was wrong. The man who was inches away from Curt’s face.

“Why do you still have me here? Tell me what you want-” “I already told you!” “What you _**really**_ want!” His voice rose before dropping it down again. “Or let me out.” “Curt, love…”

“Don’t try that shit Owen!” Curt spat with poison in his voice. “I never wanted to hurt you… I cared about you, and I still do…” “You’re insufferable. Lying through your teeth. God, nothings changed, Carvour.”

That phrase shocked Owen to his core. What hadn’t changed? He didn’t have a chance to ask as Curt continued.

“And even if you’re not lying, I don’t deserve it.” “Don’t deserve what?” Owen started reaching up to Curt’s face again but stopped, knowing the backlash. He scoffed.

“Playing dumb now, are we?” “Curt, please, just talk to me…” “Just think! Think about all those years we spent together, and think of one thing I don’t deserve.” He chuckled weakly. “Won’t be hard.” “Curt, sweetheart-” His eyes dug holes into Owen’s skin but he didn’t stop, “- you deserve whatever you think you don’t...”

“Jesus Christ, Owen, I don’t deserve this! This redemption! This love! This care! This-” He cut off before quieting down, almost defeated. “You. I don’t deserve you.”

He was stunned instantly. “What?” Curt didn’t respond. “But what made you think this? You haven’t done anything! You-”

“Have you forgotten already? We were j-” He realized that he didn’t know how long it had been and let a moment pass. “We were talking about it before! How I left you for dead! You think that would make you hate me and it should!” He felt warmth on his face, not recognizing what it was until Owen was wiping away the tears.

“Love…” Curt twisted in the bounds, trying to escape Owen’s touch. “Get. Off. Me!” Owen took steps back, stumbling along the way.

“I… I didn’t mean to… I…” He bumped into the couch, now pushed into it. There was a couch? Didn’t matter. “Please let me go…” “I… Yes.”

Owen walked back over, quickly untying everything. Curt stood instantly, rubbing his wrists and scanning the room. It clearly isn't a proper place to interrogate someone at. It looked more like a… home? He was tied up in the living room portion of the surprising well kept small house. The chair seemed to belong to a dining room behind him.

“I… I’m sorry, Curt.” Owen said, interrupting Curt’s thoughts. He wanted to accept the apology, letting life go back to what it was. That was hard when you didn’t believe the person saying it though. “Goodbye, Owen.” Curt, not facing the taller man, before walking out.

Even after the door closed, you could hear him crying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading!!


	2. Doors, Phones, and Watches

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few weeks had passed since Curt was kidnapped by Owen, when Owen comes knocking on Curt's door with a message from Cynthia.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello and welcome to the second chapter! i have some other chapters that i finished so those will be up soon! hope you enjoy!

It had been a few weeks since Curt was wit- kidnapped by Owen. Kidnapped. When there was a knock on his door. 

Godammit, who could this be? He tried to listen outside first, for any danger. All noise was a faint phone call, words jumbled and the quiet sound of someone tapping their foot.

No danger, cool. Curt opened the door, but stopped as soon as the person came into view.

Nevermind, that’s danger!

“Yes, Cynthia, I’m at the right address!” It was Owen. He was fuming, not even noticing the door that was now open. Curt would’ve brought attention to himself, had this not been Owen. At least recent Owen.

He finally turned, and noticed the man standing in the doorway. “Well then, I’ll call you back!” You could hear her protest on the other end as he hung up.

He stared at the taller man, his face looking as shocked as he was when he opened the door. It was as if he were carved in stone. “Hello, Curt.” Nope. The door slammed shut as Owen stood with his hand up in a greeting.

He was walking away when he heard the door open. What the hell?! Curt turned on his heel, and saw Owen standing in his house.

“That’s breaking and entering!” “I used a key.” “That’s still entering! Get the hell out!”

Owen sighed. “Will it mean something if Cynthia sent me?” Well, that explains why he _had_ a key. Curt couldn’t deny that if Cynthia was sending someone to his address, it was serious. 

"Fine. We better get this over with. Fast.” He gestured to the couch in the living room, sitting across from Owen as far as he could. “So…” He moved to his watch. “What are you doing?” “Setting a timer, you have 15 minutes.” “Oh.” He became flustered instantly.

“Well, uh, she wants you to go back to wor-” “Gah! That can’t be it. She wouldn’t send someone, especially _you_ -” Poison laced the word ‘you’ like it were trying to kill someone with its presence “- to tell me to go back to work.” “That’s all I was told…”

“Godammit, give me a second.” Curt stood up, walking to his kitchen.

“Hello Cynthia! _Why is Owen here?_ ” He said with a fakeness that Owen had never heard before. “Jesus Christ, Curt, answer the fucking phone! I’ve been trying to call you for weeks!” “And I’ve been ignoring you for weeks, answer my question.” “I knew you would listen to him. Now what do you mean ignor-” “That made me want to listen less. And I’m not going back to work.” “Curt, I swear to g-” Curt put on that fake voice again. “Hold on, I think my takeout just arrived!” He said before hanging up.

That was Cynthia’s line...

“God, Curt, you’ve changed…” He glared deeply at Owen before stating “So have you.” blandly. “Do you want to talk about what happened or…” He trailed off. Curt pinched the bridge of his nose.

Owen used to do that all the time...

“No, I don’t. I refuse to think about it, why would I talk to the person who did it?” “I… I don’t know… I would.” “And that’s where we’re different, Carvour.” Curt finally walked closer to his previous location, yet still keeping his distance.

“You-” He slammed the side of his palm into the other.

Barb does that…

“- are too forgiving!” He walked even closer, resting his hand on Owen’s cheek. “Hubris will be your downfall…” Curt said solemnly, tapping his thumb twice.

Owen suspected that to be something that someone else had done, based on the string of events before this, although he didn’t recognize it.

“Will it?” He said with a smirk. “Ugh.” Curt shoved his face to the side and walked back to the kitchen. He sat thinking about what had just happened before asking a question.

“I see you mocking other’s quotes and actions. Why?” “Mocking? Really?” He walked out, now holding some alcoholic beverage. “But I don’t know what you mean.”

“You quoted Cynthia, did Barb’s hand thing, and pinched your nose bridge,” Owen explained, “I can only guess for the face tap…” “Oh. You’ve met her. But I suppose you wouldn’t know about that.” “Tatiana?” Curt groaned. “I _still_ don’t like that you know her name!”

“Why?” “Because! It reminds me of how you wanted all the world’s secrets, every detail that would be hidden, you said so yourself, Chimera would dismantle everything I ever believed in, that’s-”

His watch started beeping loudly.

“Shit!” Curt yelped, turning off the alarm. “Well…” He let out a breath, “That’s fifteen minutes. Get out.” “Curt…” “You said you would leave, go through with it.” Owen sighed and let a moment pass.

“No.”

The confidence shocked him. “What?”

“You’ve been here for weeks, alone, not contacting anybody. You need somebody!”  
“What I _need_ is solitude!” Curt hissed.  
“Curt, I care about you, and-”  
“And you mean nothing to me! Leave!”

That was one way to get Owen to stop. “Wait, shit, I’m sorry, wait, no, come back, I-” He was gone.

Curt slumped against his wall, swearing to himself. He began to cry when the ringing started again.

“I swear to god, if this is Cynthia…” He mumbled to himself, wiping his tears away as he walked to the phone. “Hello?” He said weakly.  
“Curt?” A woman with a strong Russian accent said from the other end. _The_ woman with a strong Russian accent. “Tatiana?” “Curt…” “Is everything alright?” “Are _you_ alright?”

“Uh…” He thought about what had just happened, how Owen had ran away, how emotional he had been when leaving…  
“Yep! Doing good! Why are you calling?”

“I got a call from Cynthia.” Shit. “Ah… what did she say?” “She told me how Owen had called her.” _Shit_. “He was crying.” Shit! “And coming from your house.” _Shit_!

“Ah…” “So I called to see if you were okay.” “Well, I’m… _good_ …” The word was drawn out, very clearly uncertain.

“Curt… You haven’t contacted anyone in weeks, and the first we hear of you is the man who was going _against_ you, crying _because_ of you.” Silence. “What happened?” Silence. “Curt?” All she heard next was the phone being put back and the busy signal tone playing in her ear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading!!


	3. The One Where... What the hell?!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Curt is left alone to think about what happened and if he should go back to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello! welcome to the third chapter! this one is a little shorter! hope you enjoy!

Godammit, why do people have to communicate?!

Now everyone knew that Owen was with Curt _and_ that Curt was a fucking asshole about it.

He hurt him, which is the last thing he would want to do. And, to make it worse, after their time together, Curt was forced to think about everything.

How he was “mocking” others movements, what made him act that way, if he still… liked Owen… 

Since he wasn’t going to work, and knew himself _all_ too well at the moment, he figured it out fast.

The easiest one to find most of was the mocking. The movements (or quote, in Cynthia’s case) were memorable to him, as were the people doing them. He cared about all of them, except Owen... or so he thought.

It was obvious. Curt should have known his feelings. The way he acted around him, how he felt when he thought of him, anything related to the bastard made Curt feel a way that he shouldn’t.

He was pacing in his living room mindlessly. But why did he react that way? Yelling about how he “didn’t care” or some other bullshit. God… Tatiana was right, he really did need somebody… A moment passed in silence, even with his thoughts.

That wasn’t Tatiana, was it?

Godammit, that was Owen! Why does he have to be so smart?

“ _He knows you all too well, Mega_ ” the little voice in his head kept saying, like it was any new knowledge.

Curt walked to the kitchen for what felt like the hundredth time in the past days, as it held alcohol and the phone.

Dialing, dialing- She picked up.

“Curt! Where have you been? I’ve-” Barb corrected herself, “- We’ve! All been worried sick! What happened to you?” “Nothing important.” “Why haven’t you called? Are you coming back to work?” “Again, not important, but for work…” He took a minute to think. “I was calling to ask you for your opinion…”

“Well, of course you should come back! When you went off work, the agents that are being sent out keep getting captured and let back out and they-” She stopped.

“What…?” “I- I- I have to go.” The phone clicked back into place.

Why would anyone be capturing agents? And more importantly letting them go back? His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door.

“I swear, if this is Owen again…” He grumbled. Curt stopped, listening for whatever may be outside.  
He heard… nothing.

“ _Maybe someone left a package?_ ” He thought while opening the door.

That was his last thought before he was knocked out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading!


	4. Well, well, well, if it isn't... who are you?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Curt wakes up and, just his luck! He's kidnapped again. He must get through this without giving away information, but it seems they already know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welcome to the fourth chapter!! i cant choose a spacing style so you're getting this, hope you enjoy!

Cold, thick air surrounded Curt. His wrists were tied tightly. The only sound being… nothing? There was darkness, even after he opened his eyes.  
What the hell?

Did he… Did he get kidnapped… again?  
Godammit.  
Slow breathing, slow breathing... “ _I swear to god, Curt, if you mess this up_ ” his thoughts chimed in, but he quickly squished it down so he could actually pay attention to his breathing. Slow…

Minutes passed of just focusing on breathing. This was tiring, when was somebody going to-  
“You know,” A British voice spoke. “You’re pretty good at faking being asleep.” The tone was harsh, but amused. “I believed you for a bit.”  
He ripped off the fabric that covered Curt’s eyes. “But only a bit.” God, you could hear the man sneering behind him.

There were lights, brighter than ever, glaring in his eyes. He adjusted quickly, scanning his surroundings.

This was… professional. Too professional. It looked similar to interrogation rooms at A.S.S., complete with a chair across from him. Did these people break into a facility to do this?  
He was, as usual, tied up. Was there ever a time where he wasn’t, where the people were so careless? He couldn’t think of it, if it did happen, that is. Didn’t Owen have an experience like th-  
Not the time to think of that. He was _literally_ tied up and kidnapped, he shouldn’t be thinking about small memories.

“What do you want?” “Hm, straight to the point, are we, Mega?” Godammit, they knew his name, at least the last one. “I guess so.” He stated firmly.  
“I want your answers, _truthful_ answers, so... let’s get started, shall we?” He sat down on the other chair.  
"I have no say in when we start so… We shall.” Curt smirked, getting a light groan from the Brit.

"Let’s start off easy… What agency do you work for?”  
“Swanson Travel Agency.” Curt lied.  
“Hm… I think we both know the right answer to _that_ question.” “Really then? What is the right answer?”

“The American Secret Service, acronym A-S-S.” Shit, they did know.  
“Like a spy? I could never. I can’t stand the sight of blood.”  
The blood part was surprisingly not a lie. Not the point though, the point was to serve as a distraction.  
Which didn’t work.

“Now then, _Agent_ Curt Mega,” So he did know the full name, fuck! “I said I wanted your _truthful_ answers. If you give them, I’ll let you free, no harm.”  
So they were letting people free, that is to say he, whoever he is, wasn’t lying.  
“And you’ve been getting my truthful answers.” He stated blankly.

The man shook his head with knowing disbelief. “Now that’s _not_ a truthful answer…”  
“Okay, fine, I’m lying, now can we get this over with?”  
“Mm… Impatient as ever, Mega…”  
“As ever? Am I supposed to know you?”

“Ah… Where do you think we are?”  
“No clue, dumbass, I just woke up after being knocked out.” Curt would’ve waved his hand like this man was an idiot but his hands were still tied tight.  
“The biggest lead I have is how clean this place looks, and how you have no ‘tools’ or whatever.”  
“Hm… You say I’m ‘dumb’-” He did quotation marks with his fingers, “- but yet cannot see what is right in front of you… What a shame.”

Before Curt had time to sputter a response, his hands were being untied.

Now, Curt would have not reacted like this normally, but this was different.  
He swung at the British man’s face as hard as possible, which only ended in pain for him because the man caught and twisted Curt’s arm.

“You truly are pathetic.” The Brit spoke plainly, staring down at the man who had fallen to the floor before walking out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the next one will most likely not be up tomorrow as i am not too far on it, unlike these which were backed up, sorry! but, thank you for reading!!


	5. Introductions, but Far Too Late

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Curt is still stuck at wherever-the-hell, when a familiar face comes with a mission.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello and welcome to chapter five! it is, yet again, shorter and spaced differently! well, hope you enjoy!

Of all things that could’ve happened, getting kidnapped by some jerks who broke into a professional facility to do fuck-all was not on the list.

Curt didn’t know how many days had passed.  
The only memorable things that happened were the first meeting and getting moved to some sort of holding room, instead of the interrogation room.

He, for once, was glad that they were being professional. Normally “professional” meant more damage but they had only hurt him once, and even then, someone checked up on him.  
Frankly, this confused him further.

Why should they care?  
He was a hostage, being kept for information.  
What “information” that may be was still a mystery.

He was still thinking when there was a knock on the door.  
Probably something normal, but knowing Curt’s luck with doors lately…  
The door unlocked, opening to reveal… A young woman? Okay, that’s… Strange but not bad.

“You have a visitor.”  
“Visitor? That sounds like I’m at a hospital, not being kept against my will.”  
“Oh, hush.”  
A strong British voice. Harsh, but amused.  
Fuck!

The woman shuffled out and _he_ walked in.

“Well then… How’s your arm?”  
“Don’t make small talk, you bastard, _why are you here_?”  
“Well I work here.” Work? Is he getting paid to be a smug asshole?  
“I meant in this room, you dunce.”  
“Came to talk.” He said, almost weirdly casual.  
“Just get it over with.”  
“Jesus, fine. I thought I’d introduce myself.”  
“Really? That’s it?”  
“Stop interrupting! You wanted this to go fast, yes?”  
He cleared his throat lightly.

“I am Samuel Greene, and you are currently in the hands of people who hold more power than you so-”  
“ _Wow,_ what a nice way to put that!” Sarcasm dripped off the phrase like a leaky sink with the power of a shower.  
Samuel just glared before continuing.

“You mean little to our vision, only serving as a roadblock. Not a very good one, though.”  
“You know, you could just _not_ insult me for a second?”  
He ignored the comment.

“We have greater plans than what the likes of you could accomplish. So we decided to take you out of the equation.”  
“I wouldn’t help you anyway, there’s no point.”  
“There is if you let me finish!” He sighed loudly.

“You have information and abilities that we need, and after that... You’re let free, no strings attached.”  
Did this man ever stop sneering?

He had to go with them until the point of learning who they are. Well, that’s going to be hard.  
Siding with this fucko, Samuel Greene, and whatever team he has.  
Not giving too much information that they let him go before he learns.  
Making sure not to get caught or hurt.

Curt had to remind himself: “ _This is just like any other infiltration mission!_ ” He had gotten out of worse scrapes than this one!... right?

“What do you need?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> samuel greene, you say? yes, i do say! that name is a reference to: 5:29am, because i fucking love 5:29am and A_Stressed_Cupcake deserves this, check it out!
> 
> and as usual, thank you for reading!
> 
> (the next one will most likely not be up tomorrow, i usually post in morning, write during day, but i [for the most part] did neither sO! see you tomorrow if possible)


	6. This was going to be a pain in the A.S.S.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Curt goes on his first mission for this mysterious group, and meets with old friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it seems that every time i say that i wont be posting tomorrow, i pull it off! and i have one backed up now! this is kinda longer, and yet, i hope you enjoy!

Thank god he agreed.  
They just told him outright what he needed to do! The only problem was what he actually needed to do.

Get into the A.S.S. building to collect sheets of information, and “tools” as Sam said.  
He explained that he meant anything useful that was in the Lab.  
Barb’s stuff.

That might be a problem after the call they had, and how if she gave him anything working, this “group” could do actual damage.

How he was supposed to tell her that, he didn’t know, especially with this watch that clearly had a tracker in it.

It was heavier than normal, and was almost hot when they put it on his wrist.  
It seems to have calmed down but that was still memorable. Almost strange how-

A car turned quickly in front of him. Curt slammed the brakes.  
Shit! He had to stay focused on driving!  
He forced his thoughts away as he continued to drive closer.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Well, it was _not_ good to see the building this close.  
A dark feeling set in his stomach as he walked through the door for the first time in months.  
He would normally make a strong entrance but he was silent the entire walk to Barb’s new office.

“Curt! You never said you were coming!” Barb exclaimed. She was surprised, shocked even.  
“But I’m here!” He said with an awkward tinge and forced smile. She didn’t notice.  
“Did you need anything?”  
“Uh, yeah, I need some cool gadgets! We both know you have those.” He was definitely trying too hard to seem normal.  
“Well, what do you need?”  
“I need…”

He thought for a minute. They never specified what he needed to get, only the number 529 and the date 6/21/1959. What _would_ they need? Curt had an idea but didn’t know if it would work.

“Five hundred twenty nine.”  
Her eyes widened.  
“Oh. Oh! I-I’ll get that for you, I can’t get it today but I’ll deliver it to your house, answer when I knock 529!”

Barb was clearly shaken up by the request. What could this thing even be?  
She was starting to walk away when Curt realized that he would have to ask Cynthia for the date.  
Shit. She always could tell when something was off.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
He knocked on the office door with “C. Houston” written on a metal plaque.  
“ _Houston..._ ” Curt thought, “ _The name Tom would go well with that…_ ”  
Not the time! He was on a mission.  
A mission against his country… He was betraying his country… This would ruin-

“Are you just going to stand there? Come in!” He stepped closer slowly.  
“Jesus Christ, I said it twice already, hurry-” He came into view. “- up...”  
She looked shocked for half a second before looking pissed.

“Well, how was your ‘Early Retirement Two: I made someone cry!’ edition?”  
“It’s not retirement if I was only gone for a couple months!”  
“A couple months? Curt, you were gone for half a year! Six whole months!”  
Shit, he really did lose track of time.  
“Well, I-”  
He stopped. He didn’t have an explanation. At least not one he could tell Cynthia.  
“I don’t know…”

“That’s what I thought you’d say.” She took a long drag on her cigarette.  
“Well, what do you need?” Curt decided to try what he did with Barb.  
“June 21st, 1959.”  
She squinted.  
“And what about it?”

Well, fuck, he didn’t know!  
Did they mention anything about it? Think, Curt, think…  
Got it! He remembered the bastard Greene shouting something about ‘18’, whatever that meant.

“Um… Eighteen?”  
“Huh… I’ll get that for you, don’t fucking move.”  
It worked?!

Although, he was less concerned about it working then how they _knew_ all this. He sat still, trying to hide his fear.

Cynthia returned quickly, holding a folder. She handed it to him, albeit aggressively.  
“Don’t lose this, return it when you’re done.”  
That went better than expected… But he still had to tell her his… _situation_ … somehow.

“I need your help, there’s a place keeping me-”  
Curt’s watch began to ring.  
“That’s, uh, Barb! I was getting something from her and, um, I’ve gotta take this, sorry!” He rushed out of Cynthia’s office before she had a chance to say anything, picking up as soon as he was away.

“What is it, you-” He was cut off. “Don’t say _anything_ to her.”  
He felt the watch heat up before…  
“AGH!” A shock launched through his arm.  
“You say more, it gets higher.” They hung up.  
Curt stood in the hallway, gasping for air, his wrist burning.

A minute passed before he had to compose himself and go back to Cynthia.  
He walked back in a definitely forced smile on his face.  
“She got it!” He did the fakest chuckle while blinking back tears.

“What the hell was that, Curt?” He looked surprised, yet still kept the smile.  
“Uh, what do you mean?”  
“You cut off while giving important information, leave while lying, and come back looking disheveled.”  
“I wasn’t lying!”  
She glared deeply.  
“I wasn’t!”  
“God, you sound like a child.” He dropped the smile.

“What were you saying? You need my help?”  
He remembered the warning that Sam had given him.  
“I forgot,” An awkward smile and shrug, a weak attempt at tricking her, “Sorry.”  
She sighed loudly.  
“Call me when you remember.” 

Thank god, she believed it.  
It would not have been good to get shocked again.

Too bad he wasn’t going to call her back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading! it actually means a lot, even if you don't leave kudos or a comment, i appreciate every one of you!  
> also! number meanings:  
> 529 - 5:29am  
> 6/21/1959 - 6/21/2016, the day the first part of SAF came out on youtube  
> 18 - the day i posted the first chapter


	7. *to the tune of spy again* Then Another! And Another Drink! Curt Crys Again!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Curt finishes the mission that he was sent to do and is solemnly reminded of his past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello and welcome to chapter six! i hate to say it, but im proud of this one!  
>  ~~and the others but that doesnt matter~~  
>  hope you enjoy!

He left the building swiftly and quietly, better than any mission.  
“ _Better than **that** mission._” His brain repeated to himself.  
Curt had almost forgotten about… Everything.  
He was walking back to his car, trying not to think about it, but once he sat down in the front seat and closed the door… It hit him.

He was currently a traitor to his country.  
The last Owen heard of him was yelling about how he “meant nothing to me” when he meant everything.  
He had lied to people who cared about him.  
It had been less then a year since Owen was going to kill him.  
He had been locked away for so long, avoiding his feelings, drinking everything.

A new thought, a new problem, came every second as tears fell from his eyes quickly.  
The world seemed just as big as the inside of his car, with only him in it.  
He felt… Alone.  
He _was_ alone. He had no one. Nobody cared. Owen, Cynthia, Barb… He lied to all of them.

Soon after, he was driving.  
Driving to somewhere.  
He could call those bastards later, he needed something.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
What did he do? How did he get here?  
He was sitting at some sort of bar, a drink sitting in front of him.  
How many drinks did he have?

He felt someone’s eyes digging into him but he didn’t care.  
He heard footsteps yet couldn’t tell if they were approaching or not.

“Hello Mega.” A British voice spoke with a strict tone. Curt turned towards him. It was a tall man, who he couldn’t recognize.

“Whaa-t iss it?” The man looked disgusted.  
“You were supposed to go right back.” The man put his hand firmly on Curt’s shoulder.  
“You did get it, right?”

“I caan’t go baac-kk!” He shook the man’s hand off his shoulder.  
“I goot it, yess, but a what costtt…” He was mumbling sadly like a child.  
“And I diidn’t get aall of itt!”

“What?!” He was furious. Curt flinched and made a noise that sounded like ‘aaaAAaAAaaa…’  
“Thiis is whyy I don’ wanna go baack…” He left out the part about how he was betraying his country aswell.  
“What do you _mean_ you didn’t get all of it?”

“Barbie couldm’t get thee thing, all I gott is the follder...”  
The Brit pinched his nose bridge before continuing.  
“When _will_ she be getting it?”  
“I don’ know, she saidd she’d deliverr.” Curt took a sip of his drink sadly.

“God, we’ll talk about this later, come with me.” He put a hand on his back, forcing him to stand. He wrapped his arm around the tall mystery man, stumbling as he walked out the door.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
His eyes opened slowly with the rumble of a car around him.

“Owenn?” Curt spoke quietly into the darkness around him.  
“No. I’m not Owen, whoever he is.”  
“But…” He blubbered.  
The man sighed.  
“You really are a fucking idiot, you know that?”

He turned his head up to the man talking, but instead of seeing who this man really was, he just saw the face of his lover staring back.

“Owe-e-en!” He sobbed. “I’m sorry-y! I didn’t meaan ittt! I ca-a-are!”  
The man driving was confused and strongly shocked.  
“What? What are you talking about?” He demanded an answer.  
Curt didn’t hear.  
“Yoou’re not nothingg! Yoou’re-”  
“Can it, will you?!”

He stopped, curling further into himself, whimpering “Sorry, Owe…” before closing his eyes again, tears still falling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> boy, do i love making curt cry!  
> as usual, thank you for reading!


	8. Uhhh, Fuck You?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Curt has to go home to get object 529 but he's not alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello! chapter eight of me-going-off-track-and-not-sticking-to-something!  
> sorry it took a couple days, i couldn't decide if i wanted to split it or not but 1 and 6/10 pages is way too fucking much!  
> more important stuff happens in the later splits  
> it is shorter (short _est_ ) and kinda different but like heY  
> i hope you enjoy!

“So, I need to go to my address because she’s bringing it there.” He explained.  
Samuel stared back, squinting.  
“Also, I should take the folder with me because my boss told me not to lose it.”  
“And you think we will?”  
“I think it’s best we keep them together.”

Curt was stuck trying to justify going to his house because Barb was going to deliver Mr. Five-Hundred-Twenty-Nine there with a pounding headache.

They must think he is going to “escape” or whatever, which they should know is literally impossible with them knowing his address, having kidnapped him before, while he is wearing a watch that listens at all times and can electrocute him.

“You guys heard her, she’s going to be knocking a code so that it is kept safe and not seen by other people.”  
Sam turned to the two people behind him and they nodded.  
He looked back at Curt.  
“Fine. But someone is going with you.”  
Well, of-fucking-course they are.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
This was going to be interesting.  
They sent him home with this guy because they clearly didn’t trust him.

His name was Emmett Matthews, unless he was lying about his name, which why would he.  
Apparently he had met Curt before? That made no sense to him as he didn’t remember him. He was just some random tall British man, but he “recognized him from the start” or some bullshit.  
Now Mr. Mystery was on his couch. 

“Well, do you want anything or…?”  
“I’m only staying as long as needed.”  
“Yeah, me too, now _do you want anything_?”

Emmett was scanning the room silently, focusing on each area separately.  
“I’m taking that as a no.”  
Curt quickly searched his fridge, taking note of what had gone bad. He returned to the living room holding a drink.  
A familiar sight for him, but the taller man looked intently, like he was doing something wrong.

“Are you _really_ going to drink that?”  
“Uh, yeah? Unless you guys banned-” He did quotation marks with his open hand, “‘alcoholic beverages’”  
“Hm…”  
“Why are you asking?”  
“Nothing important to you.”  
More of the mystery… Why would Curt's drinking habits even be important?

“If this takes more than one day, which it probably will, there’s a guest room on the left side of the hall.”  
Curt took a sip of his drink.  
“You can still use that if it doesn’t.”  
No response for a minute.

“Okay.”  
Jesus, did it take him that long to think of that? Just “okay”?  
He must’ve made a face because Emmett barked a simple “What?”  
Curt hummed a short note while drinking more.

“Well… It’s nothing important… To you.”

He was sneering like it was the smartest thing he'd said. The Brit just grumbled a half-hearted insult before going quiet. He didn't respond to anything else Curt said in the next few minutes.  
"You know, I'm getting fed u-"

He was cut off by the man getting up from the couch.

"I'm going to lay down." He stated blankly, walking down the hall but not before he said "Don't need me."  
Really? Don't need me? This was going to be a while...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> new character! how many are we going to get?? thats a secret i'll never tell!  
> im kidding, not too many more  
> his name is referencing tgwdlm as it is a more masculine emma and paul's last name!  
> and, as normal, thank you for reading!


	9. Tick Tock, We're Still Waiting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Curt and Emmett are still waiting on Barb to deliver, and finally talk about how they first met.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wasn't gonna post but heY!  
> i remembered recently that: mr. electric watch from chapter six (mentioned in this) wasn't my idea, got the inspiration from 'Spies Are Actually Forever' by NeilMalia which fuckin slaps, check it out!  
> this has slight importance but honestly i dont know  
> hope you enjoy!

He couldn’t stand this guy.  
Em was super serious about his job, never having conversations like if he did have one, it would destroy everything.  
While thinking, he was standing in the kitchen, making eggs and toast.  
Maybe he'd accept something today.

“Do you want some?”  
He glared directly at Curt before stating: “No.”  
He turned to the stove, mumbling, “Of course not!” while continuing to cook.

“I don’t know if you’re going to poison me. That’s why I don’t accept.”  
Curt turned entirely towards him, speaking with slight amusement.  
“Now why would I do that?”  
“That tone proves my point enough.”

He went back to cooking, letting a moment pass.

“I wouldn’t get away with it, you know.”  
“What?”  
“I wouldn’t get away with it!”  
He definitely sounded amused now, turning to face Emmett with a smirk.

“I’m wearing a watch that can electrocute me and you guys know my address! I think that’d be pretty hard.”  
“They haven’t electrocuted you, have they?”  
“No, because I’m still getting them information.”

Curt reached for a plate from the cabinet, quickly putting his food on it, and walking to the living room.

“Give it until Barb gets here and we’ll see.”  
“Barb?”  
“Yeah, Barb. Why does it matter?”  
“Doesn’t.” God, he was annoying.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
It felt nice to be home again, though he knew it wouldn’t last.  
It couldn’t.  
As soon as the object was delivered, he would be brought back to that facility.  
That stupid facility and even worse Samuel Greene.  
That place must hate him.  
They didn’t even let him see where he was when leaving.

Curt was laying on his couch in his living room with a drink on the table next to him when Em walked out.

“Are you drinking more? Really?”  
“Can you leave me the fuck alone?”  
“I don’t want to see you cry like a child again.”  
“Again? I _literally_ met you two days ago, what the hell do you mean?”  
“We met four days ago, not two.”

Shit, has it been that long?  
“The night of the mission, I was sent to… Collect you.”  
Curt stared blankly. It hadn’t been 4 days, that was before he arrived at home...

“You had been drinking and fell asleep in the car. When you woke up, you started sobbing about someone named Owen-” He tensed up at the thought of his lover, “- and how you didn’t mean what you said, whatever it was that you said.”

“Huh…” He moved into a sitting position. “I didn’t know about that.”  
“Yeah, I can tell, you said you didn’t know me enough times for me to take it to memory.”  
Curt scoffed before dropping the annoyed facade, resting in silence for a moment.

“I guess I have… I’m still going to finish this though.”  
“ _Of_ course you are!” Emmett said, walking to the kitchen. Hm. At least he was talking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> when will curt stop giving people nicknames after like 3 seconds? we've got 'Em' and 'Sam', like,,,, sir?  
> but, thank you for reading!


	10. Five Hundred Twenty Nine Hours... Of Waiting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Curt and Emmett are still waiting when a familiar (very welcome) face arrives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello and welcome to chapter 10 of Ex-Liars!  
> im your host Dumb Gay Teen and in this episode we are faced with "Godammit this seems like filler and theres nothing I can do about it"!
> 
> i finished this some time ago but couldnt decide if i should split it but i did because:  
> Actually Important Stuff™ happens next chapter!!  
> though this is like semi important??? idk
> 
> this is a lot, but i hope you enjoy!

Waking up early was not something Curt enjoyed.  
This became a problem when the man who he was forced to live with got up at 4 every morning.

“Jesus Christ, Em, quiet down!” He called down the hallway to him which just got a “Sod off!” in response.

After he revealed to Curt how they first met, he was more cocky, for some reason?  
He didn’t know.  
Still, he stood up and walked out.

“What are you even doing?” Curt questioned, rubbing one of his eyes.  
“Making food for myself, same as literally every morning.”  
“You’re insufferable.”  
“And you’re lazy. Happy?”

“ _Sure_. If that’s the answer you-” A quick knock hit the door.  
Curt stepped closer quietly.

“Who is that rapping at my chamber?”  
“Not your chamber! Mine! This is my house!”  
“It’s Edgar Allan Poe, you-” Em groaned lightly pinching his nose bridge.

He didn’t have time to continue when- Five short knocks, two more with three longer ones after, ending it with four long and one short.  
He understood the message quickly, opening the door. 

“Curt! I got the-” Barb noticed the man standing in the kitchen, stopping.  
“Oh, he was sent by MI6, he’s allowed here.”

Emmett waved slightly before going back to cooking.  
She still quieted.

“Five twenty nine. Keep it safe, Agent.” She handed him a small case.  
He went to open the latches but she reached for his wrist in an effort to stop him.

“Don’t open it until you get there.”  
“Okay, I understand.”  
Curt assumed that was because of Emmett rather than danger, but would still listen.

“Well, uh, I’ll stay safe, as will you hopefully! Thank you for your work.”  
She flashed a smile and he knew it was the right thing to say.  
“Bye, Curt, I’ll see you again later!”  
He waved as she jogged away, closing the door.

“I knew waking up early would be helpful!”  
Curt groaned.  
“I hate to say you’re right.”  
“Get used to it, love!”

Why was he smiling?  
Mr. ‘ _This is just like any other infiltration mission_ ’ smiling over something the enemy said?

At least he was going back soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Curt: stupid facility >:[[[  
> Also Curt: this guy made me smile, take me back >:000 (in time to love you)
> 
> yeah, im sorry for posting what seems like 3 chapters of filler, i just,,,,, idk  
> thank you for reading!


End file.
